An Unremarkable Specimen
by mkaz
Summary: Barbara Miller is known around Beach City as the gruff, dependable, reliable mail lady - a dealer in tough love and wisdom. But that's who she is now, not who she once was. This is the story of how Barb came to Beach City - through a deal made with a magical lady with stars in her eyes. Takes place after "I Am My Mom."
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Steven Universe is the creation of Rebecca Sugar._

The post office was open the day after the abduction. The lobby opened promptly at 8 am, just as it always has. Barb was right there, behind the desk, ready with a smile and a competent air, prepared to assist a patron with any need they may have. No one was terribly surprised by this—even though Barb's daughter Sadie was one of the Beach City residents who'd been taken by the aliens. No, this was just Barb's way: plow through the fear and the trauma, keep a level head and a stiff upper lip, be the rock that a weaker soul might need. It was just her way.

At least, that was the way she was now.

The past didn't matter. It was a small, shriveled, dried-out husk tossed back in a corner, not to be thought about. Barb didn't live in the past; she survived it, and she never planned to go back. That didn't mean, however, that it didn't resurface in her mind from time to time—usually appearing as a footnote to whatever might be happening to her in the present.

That was just the sort of situation Barb found herself in now, as she sorted the incoming mail into the huge, frosty-white tubs that dictated the various routes to be taken for delivery. She'd already decided that she'd keep the lobby open for services until about noon, then she'd deliver the mail around town, and then finally come back late in the afternoon and get the parcels ready for the central hub to come collect the outgoing mail. She wasn't going to have a break today, even for lunch, but that was fine; she didn't have much of an appetite today anyway.

She thought of Sadie, at home alone recovering, as she tossed the envelopes of various sizes and shapes into the bins. She'd wanted to stay home with her baby girl, but with Jamie out sick, she had no choice. She had to come in and do her job. Sadie had wanted to go into work at the Big Donut, but Barb insisted she stay home and take it easy. She knew her daughter was still reeling from everything that had happened. She'd lost two of her friends the day before: Steven, and Lars. Barb's heart ached for Steven, the sweet boy who'd given himself up to save her daughter and the others.

She couldn't, however, say the same for Lars.

She knew the boy must struggle with some mental things, and she'd met his folks on her mail route and they seemed like nice enough people—but she hated the way he'd treated her daughter. He took her for granted, was blind to her feelings. And yet, Sadie was devoted to him. It scared Barb; she knew this pattern well. She'd lived this pattern. She didn't want her daughter making the same mistakes she did, and so there was a part of her that was glad that Lars Barriga was gone. Because if Lars was gone, that meant that Sadie wouldn't have to do what Barb had had to do several years ago: gather up enough courage to leave and never go back.

* * *

The insidious problem with abuse (of any kind) is that it's often difficult to see—even to the person being abused. And, of course, the abuser doesn't think that what they're doing is abuse, so they're blind to it as well. What makes abuse hard to define is that it's not a constant state of pain and terror; it comes in waves.

Barb would sometimes go weeks without a slap to the face, or a punch to the gut, or just being shouted at that she was a hideous cow. Sometimes Cal would come home and it would be wonderful; he'd be in a great mood, he'd had a great day at work. She'd serve him a meal that he'd love and rave about, and he'd sit on the sofa and hold her hand and smile over at her. Sadie would play with her blocks at their feet, and it was perfect. Sometimes there would be days, even weeks, where it would be perfection, just like this, and Barb would convince herself that this was the way it was going to be from here on out—that the last time he'd shoved her into the wall or broke one of her porcelain dolls truly was the last time.

But, inevitably, something would go wrong: someone upset him at the office, or she'd forget to starch his shirts, or Sadie would act out, and Cal's temper would flare again. Fortunately, Barb had managed to keep Cal's anger directed only at her, never at their daughter. On those late nights after Cal went to bed, when she'd be tending to her injuries or sweeping up the debris left from one of his rampages, Barb would talk herself out of leaving. She'd calculate how often these things happened, and really, it wasn't too much. Maybe once or twice a month—sometimes it didn't happen for two or three months at a time!

And it wasn't like Cal was out drinking and carousing at all hours; no, he was an honest, hard-working man who provided a good life for her and Sadie. He never drank at all, he was always home on time, and he made sure that the bills were always paid and there was food in the fridge and clothes on their backs. When Cal did have an outburst, there was a reason behind it; it's not like he hit her for no reason. It was pressure at work, or his parents breathing down his neck, or something like that. Cal wasn't perfect, after all—and he always apologized afterwards. Maybe not in words, but in actions. He'd send flowers, or he'd take Barb and Sadie to a nice restaurant. Were those the actions of a man who didn't care? Of course not!

And where could Barb go, anyway? She had no family left, besides Sadie. Her mother had died just a year before Sadie was born. This was all she had. Leaving would feel like giving up. And she had no idea how to start all over again.

Eventually the opportunity would find her, instead of the other way around. Right after Sadie turned three years old, Barb started to have the feeling that she was being watched. She had no concrete proof; it wasn't like she saw anyone or anything, she just sensed it. It didn't even bother her, surprisingly enough. If there was someone who was watching her, their presence seemed harmless.

One day during this time, Barb went grocery shopping. Sadie, sitting in the basket of the cart, kept throwing her cloth doll up in the air and inevitably dropped it, and Barb had to keep picking it up and handing it back to her. Barb was trying to choose between two different cuts of meat, weighing the importance of picking something Cal would like as opposed to saving money like he'd want, when she heard a voice: "She's adorable."

Barb looked up to see a stunningly beautiful woman, smiling down at her. Her figure was athletic but very feminine—and she was quite tall, taller than most men Barb had ever seen. Her stick-straight, bright blonde hair hung down to her waist and had a single streak of pink running through it. She was dressed in tight red pedal pushers, a white tee, and a black denim jacket with roses embroidered on the arms. Sadie put her arm over her mouth and giggled, knowing the compliment was meant for her.

"Oh!" it took Barb a moment to gather her thoughts. "Thank you."

"This is a wonderful age, isn't it?" The woman asked. "So many things to learn. So much wonder." She bent ever so slightly and smiled again at Sadie, who smiled back. "Enjoy it."

Barb couldn't tell if the woman was talking to Sadie, or to her. There was a unique quality to the woman's voice: sweet and yearning and wise all at the same time. "Yes, we'll try. Thank you." The woman nodded and went on her way.

Barb didn't really give the encounter another thought—until she got to the checkout line and saw the woman was a couple people ahead of her in the line and was being waited on by the cashier. When she was told the total for her groceries, she fumbled through her purse, slowly, then quickly, and then stammered, "Oh, I'm s-sorry. I-I don't seem to have...$25.80, right?"

"Yep," the cashier—a teenaged girl who looked bored out of her mind—replied.

"Well, I only have $20." The woman looked around, forlorn. The other customers were now a mix of annoyed, anxious, or sympathetic faces. No one seemed to know what to do.

Something seemed to activate in Barb, and she felt for the woman. Pulling out her wallet, she stepped out of line and walked toward the register. "Here," she said, handing the cashier six dollars. "That should cover it."

The woman turned to Barb with look of surprise and joy. "Oh, thank you! Thank you!" she reached for Barb's hand.

Barb took the woman's hand in hers with a smile. Her smile quickly faded, however, when she realized the woman had pushed a slip of paper into her palm. Barb met the woman's knowing gaze, then went back to reclaim her place in line, remembering that she'd left Sadie in the cart alone.

* * *

That night, the piece of paper made its way into the pocket of Barb's bathrobe, which was wrapped around her while she sat on the floor in the hallway, right outside of Sadie's room. She hoped that the cup of coffee she drank earlier would allow her to stay awake until morning. Cal's breathing, coming from across the hall, was still deep and even. Hopefully he'd sleep through the night, wake up with a clean slate, and go off to work in a good mood.

Barb had made a terrible mistake. At dinner, Cal had asked her how their day had gone, and she let it slip out that a woman at the cash register was short $5 and Barb had given it to her. She shut her eyes right after she said it—knowing that she shouldn't have and it was too late.

Cal stopped eating and just looked at her. "You gave a stranger money?"

Barb swallowed her mouthful and tried to smile. "It was only five dollars. She needed help. I just—"

"You're just giving our money away? I work hard to make money, and you go give it away!"

"Cal, please…"

He slammed down the fork so hard, Sadie looked up from her tomatoes and cucumbers in confusion. "What the hell were you thinking? I gave you that money to buy groceries for our family. I don't work to pay for other people's crap. Is that what you do with my money? Just give it away?"

"Of course not! I've never before. I-I-I just…felt bad for her, that's all. I'm sorry." Barb hung her head.

Cal sniffed, picked up his fork, and started to eat again. "You're a moron, Barb. Pure and simple. Don't ever let me catch you doing that again."

Barb was relieved. Cal didn't hold her hand while they watched TV, and he ignored her as they were going to bed, but that had been it. But just as she was starting to fall asleep, she remembered a time before, when she'd accidentally burned the dinner. Cal was furious that he'd worked hard all day, and all he wanted was a nice meal. He called her an idiot who couldn't do anything right, but he went out and got them fried chicken from the takeout place instead. Barb thought everything was fine, but he started pummeling her in the middle of the night. She'd been awakened by a fist to the gut and to the jaw. It was one of the worst incidences, because she was completely caught off guard. At least when Cal usually beat her, she was wide awake and fully prepared for it coming. She learned after that: sometimes he took his time building up his rage. She couldn't assume that because he'd seemed to let it go, that it was the end of it.

And that's why she sat in the hallway. She reasoned that if he woke up, ready to hit her, she'd be prepared. If he looked for her, she'd pretend that she'd heard Sadie and she was just checking on her.

Barb looked at the clock on the bureau. It was 2 am. Just four more hours until she had to wake him for work. She could make it. Just don't fall asleep.

She sighed and tucked her hand into her pocket, and her fingers made contact with the slip of paper from the woman at the market. She pulled it out and looked at it. It was a string of numbers, random numbers, it seemed—too long to be a phone number. There were also several pound signs and stars mixed in with the numbers. It made no sense at all to Barb.

And yet, while she looked at it, something seemed to change. Barb almost felt like she'd was being pulled up and out of herself, moved in a way so that she was apart from her world and she could look at it objectively, in its entirety—like an impassive stranger.

Barb lived in fear, every single day of her life. She'd had her eyes blackened, her ribs bruised, her arm broken, her hands cut. She'd been called a cow, a loser, a fatass, a worthless sack of lard. Every day of her married life she cried; she waited until Cal left for work, and Sadie was busy playing or napping, and she went into her closet and let herself cry for ten minutes.

She had no control over life, at all. No true moment of peace, where she could do what she pleased and be okay with it. She always had to be perfect, to do things the way Cal wanted them done, or she risked igniting his temper. She was like a guest in someone else's home—a guest who had worn out her welcome but who desperately wanted to belong.

And at that very moment, she was sitting on the floor in the hallway in the middle of the night, struggling to stay awake so that she could avoid being battered by her husband for showing someone some kindness. _What was she doing?_

Barb's mother gave her some advice was she was a teenager: _whoever it is you marry, just make sure that he loves you more than you love him._ Barb knew exactly where this advice had come from; her father had left her and her mother for another woman when she was young. Barb's mother always blamed herself for choosing the wrong man to marry and didn't want Barb to make the same mistake.

Barb so desperately wanted a home and a family. She wanted to make it work, to give her daughter what she hadn't had. But she didn't want to be hurt, either. And how long would it be until Cal decided that Sadie was a fair target? Barb couldn't bear the thought of him doing the things he did to her to their child.

She finally was able to see things for what they were. And she wanted out.

* * *

After Cal left for work and Sadie was taking her afternoon nap, Barb looked at the slip of paper the woman had given her and tried to figure out what to do. At last, she did the only thing she could think of. She'd treat the sequence of numbers like a phone number, and dial it.

Taking a deep breath, Barb dialed ***35**#68*47012#*9011237##**56024. At first she thought the operator would cut her off mid-dial to tell her that her call couldn't be completed as dialed, but that didn't happen. Instead, she heard a faint whooshing sound for a few minutes, then something that sounded like a song. Then there was the sound of water flowing, and that sound lasted for several minutes. Barb wasn't sure what to do; she didn't want to hang up, but at the same time, she wasn't sure if it was worth hanging on.

Just as Barb was about to put down the phone, she heard a voice say, "Hello, there."

Barb recognized this voice. It was low, melodic, and kind—the woman in the market. "Um, hi."

A laugh, like the tinkling of bells. "Hello."

"Um…I'm Barb? I was at the market the other day…you needed five bucks…"

"Oh yes! With the little girl?"

"Right!" Barb was starting to feel better. "I got the slip of paper you put in my hand."

"Obviously." That laugh again. "What can I do for you?"

Barb hesitated. She hadn't thought that far ahead.

"Hello?" the voice asked.

"Oh! Sorry, I was trying to get my thoughts together. Um….well you see…I'm kinda, well, unhappy where I am. My husband, he sometimes hits me, and he makes me feel bad about myself, and I don't know how much more I can take—"

"He abuses you."

This gave Barb pause. She'd never thought of that word. Yes. Of course. What else could you possibly call it? It was abuse. She was married to an abuser. She was being abused. "I don't know if you can help me…"

"I can. And you can help me too, if you're willing."


	2. Chapter 2

The woman agreed to come to Barb's house around 1 the next day. After speaking to her, Barb wondered the whole night and into the next day if that was a mistake. What if Cal unexpectedly came home while she was there? Or what if this woman was a psycho killer, who'd been flagrantly invited in by Barb? What if Sadie told Cal about a strange lady coming to the house to talk to Mommy?

Ultimately, Barb decided, it was too late. Barb had made an agreement, and she was going to stick to it. She managed to put Sadie down for her nap just ten minutes before the doorbell rang. Hopefully her daughter would sleep through the entire meeting.

It was the beautiful woman from the store—and she wasn't alone. A slim, very pale woman accompanied her, dressed all in black: black shirt, tight black jeans, black leather jacket. Her hair was pulled tightly into two silvery buns on each side of her head. Her expression was grim, very grim. But what really gave Barb pause was the patch she wore over her left eye. Whatever had happened to her, it was brutal; jagged white scars poked out from the edge of the patch. Barb wondered if this smaller woman served as some sort of bodyguard, although her Amazonian companion didn't look like she needed protecting.

Barb managed to smile and said, "Hi! Please come in." The tall blonde thanked her and the visitors entered. Barb led them to her dining room and had them sit.

"I'm Barbara Sawyer, by the way," she told them as they got settled. "You can call me Barb."

"Cherry Carbone, nice to meet you," the tall blonde told her. "And this is my associate, Blanca Schwartz." The woman in the eye patch glanced at Cherry with a frown, but said nothing.

"So…you said that we could help each other?" Barb asked.

"Yes, I did." Cherry nodded to Blanca, and seemingly out of nowhere the smaller woman pulled out a bound stack of pages with a clear, glossy cover that had a very faint shimmer of pink to it. She pushed the book across the table to Barb.

"I can explain what's in there while you look through it, if you'd like," Cherry offered. Barb agreed and listened to Cherry's proposal, while she flipped through the rather dense reading material.

It took nearly fifteen minutes for everything to be explained to Barb; much of it was so scientific and technical she was having trouble grasping it. Eventually, Cherry was able to relay the general concepts of what was wanted from her, and when she did, Barb immediately worried that she'd gotten herself in way over her head.

But then there was Cherry's half of the bargain to consider: a new life, a clean slate. A house of her own, in an entirely new city, where she could start over and raise her daughter in peace. Cal would never find them, Cherry promised. She'd be free, to live exactly as she pleased. Oh, it was such a beautiful dream, Barb hadn't realized until that moment how much she wanted it to come true!

"So do you have any questions?" Cherry asked.

"Uh…no. I don't know. It's—it's a lot," Barb answered.

"Of course. You can take some time to think about it, if you need."

"Right. Thanks." Barb thought of something. "Would you ladies excuse me for a moment? I need to go upstairs and check on my daughter."

After she'd gone to the second floor, Barb went to the bathroom and quietly shut the door behind her, then sat on the floor and leaned over the vent. The bathroom on that floor was directly above the dining room, and if the two women spoke loudly enough, Barb would be able to hear their conversation if they had one. She didn't have to wait very long before she heard them talking.

"What do you think? Do you think she'll say yes?" Cherry asked.

"I don't know." It was interesting to her Blanca speak, since she hadn't spoken a word before; she had a motherly sounding voice, as if it was always on the brink of scolding someone. "Honestly, I don't know why you picked her out of all of the others you've been studying. No professional accomplishments among her contemporaries, average intelligence, below-average education, a lack of physical beauty—she's an unremarkable specimen. Surely you must see that."

"Of course I do! That's why I've chosen her!"

"What? I don't follow."

"You know what I'm planning to do. I'm going to show them—all three of them—what this world is capable of. I'm going to show them that the most amazing things in life can come in the most ordinary of forms. If I'm successful, my creation will force them to accept that there's a different way—a _better_ way—to look at things. This woman saw that I was in distress and she helped me—she didn't have to, but she did."

"From what you told me, it wasn't that much of a sacrifice."

"Even the smallest acts of kindness can be the greatest ones."

"There's more to it, isn't there? You feel badly for her. Because of the situation she's in."

"What of it? A little compassion never hurt anyone. Besides, you of all people should know what it's like to be abused."

Barb waited for Blanca to fire back a retort, but she didn't.

Cherry added softly, "Why don't you stay here? Permanently this time? You'd be safe; you'd be free!"

"We both know that isn't true."

"But—"

"I know you worry about me, but it's all right. Things run smoother with me there. I can help keep her rage in place. Besides, if she ever found out that I can still think for myself…" Barb could swear she heard the pale woman shiver.

"How much longer can you stay?"

"Not much longer. A year or two at most. They're meeting right now, and I have to make sure I'm back before they adjourn and she starts looking for me. You…haven't told the others about me, have you?"

"Of course I haven't."

"Good."

Barb got up and went back downstairs. She couldn't keep sitting there, or they'd wonder what was keeping her. When she returned, Cherry smiled at her and said, "We can talk this through as much as you need. I realize that what I'm asking for is unusual, but I promise, no harm will come to you."

Barb looked down at her hands. "Could I have a few days to think about it?"

"Absolutely. Is three days enough?"

"Sure!" Barb regretted agreeing so quickly, but maybe that was all she would need.

"Very well. In three days, at this same time of day, Blanca will drive by the house to pick you up. You will need to be ready to go. You may bring with you any items of sentimental value, anything for your daughter you may need. Do not eat or drink anything 12 hours before she arrives. And of course," Cherry leaned forward slightly, "Tell no one what you're doing."

"If you are not outside and ready to go when I arrive, I will assume that you have changed your mind and will drive on," Blanca said to her. She stared at Barb for a moment, seemingly reading her. Then she added, "Understand that this will be your one and only opportunity. You must be certain that this is what you want, because there will be no going back." The smaller woman's scar almost seemed to gleam as she spoke. Barb was frightened of her.

"Are you sure you don't have any more questions for me? I know this is a lot for a human being to process," Cherry asked her as she and Blanca walked out of the front door and onto the porch.

Barb found Cherry's choice of "human being" to use as a little strange, but she replied, "I guess my only question…isn't something you can answer for me. I wish I knew I was doing the right thing."

Cherry considered this for a moment, then looked at Blanca, who gave the barest of smiles and nodded. "The truth is, the right thing doesn't always feel like the 'right thing.' It's often the painful choice, or the messy choice. And there are times when doing the right thing _makes_ problems, rather than solving them."

Barb frowned. "Then—then—how do I…"

The tall woman smoothed her blonde hair and sighed. "The only advice I can give you is: make the choice you can live with. And only _you_ know what you can live with." She rested her hands on Barb's shoulders. "I'll see you soon, Barb—maybe."

And then the two women were gone. Just as Barb was shutting the door, Sadie appeared on the stairs. "Mommy? I awake now!"

Barb sighed, then smiled. "Okay, baby. What do you want to do now?"

* * *

When Cal came home, he was in a surprisingly good mood. After giving Sadie a kiss, he threw his arms around Barb and kissed her. "Break out the champagne, baby, I struck it big!"

"What happened?" Barb asked as she put dinner in front of him.

"We won the contract with City Hall. We'll be their utilities supplier for the next five years, and I've been put in charge of it-everything!"

"Oh, honey, that's great!"

"Yep!" Cal scarfed down his dinner happily. "It means more money flowing through this place. We can finally take a nice vacation. I could even start building that sunroom we've always wanted for entertaining. Honey," he took her hand. "I know I've been a grouch sometimes, but I've been trying really hard to build something here for us. And it's finally coming together! Our dreams are coming true. Thanks for sticking by me." He gave her that smile Barb had fallen for when they'd first met: shy and soulful.

Barb smiled and squeezed his hand. "Of course, honey. I'm so happy for you."

After they'd eaten for a while, Cal asked, "So how was your day? Anything going on?"

"Oh, not really. It was pretty quiet around here."

"Two ladies talk to Mommy!" Sadie suddenly burst out. Barb felt her heart start to pound but she continued to chew her food.

"Two ladies?" Cal repeated.

Barb thought fast. "You know the Bitterman's old house on the corner? The one for sale? Two women stopped to talk to me about it while I was sweeping the porch. Apparently they're thinking of buying it, but they're torn between that one and another one they're looking at. They were scouting the neighborhood to get a feel for it."

"What did you tell them?"

"That we'd moved in a few years ago and we liked it here. That it's quiet and respectable. They thought our house and lawn were very tidy." Barb knew that throwing a compliment about the lawn would help pacify Cal. He was quite vain about his property.

"Hmph," Cal grunted, taking another bite of his dinner. "Two women buying a house together? What are they—lesbians?"

"Maybe. I didn't ask, and they didn't offer any information about themselves."

Cal seemed content to drop the subject after that—much to Barb's relief.

* * *

Barb agonized over the choice she had to make that night and into the next day. Cal was so happy, so loving, and affectionate. He'd worked hard to win that contract, and things were finally falling into place. Maybe that was the end of their rough period. Maybe Barb could talk to him about things, and they'd work together to make sure the abuse never happened again.

But hadn't she been down this road before? Hadn't she gone through periods when Cal seemed wonderful, and everything was fine, and it only took one thing to make him turn violent again?

She wished she had someone to talk to. But she had no one. Her mother was gone. Any friends that she might have had she'd lost contact with when Cal insisted they leave their hometown and move hundreds of miles away. Finally, while she had a moment to herself, she retrieved the slip of paper with the number Cherry had given her and dialed it again. She hadn't gotten to the fourth digit before the operator came on and informed her that the number couldn't be completed as dialed. She whimpered as she put down the phone.

When Cal got home and saw dinner on the table, he scowled. "Why'd you make dinner?" he demanded.

Barb felt her cheeks flush. "I—you don't want dinner?"

"We're going over to Abel's house tonight, remember? I told you yesterday." Abel was Cal's co-worker and best friend.

"Oh! Sorry, honey. I completely forgot."

Cal smirked. "What a ditz. Go put this stuff away and get yourself and Sadie ready. And wear your blue dress."

* * *

Abel's house had never been a place Barb had liked going to. It was always crowded, noisy, and there seemed to be a cloud of something hanging in the air, like pollution. Everything (the furniture and surfaces) looked like it was greasy too. That night Abel had two more of their co-workers and their families, as well as his brother and sister-in-law and their two kids, over for dinner. It seemed like utter pandemonium; the kids were all boys ranging in ages from 5 to 12, and they all played viciously and rough. After Barb had made a plate for Cal and brought him a beer, she sat on the edge of the sofa and kept an arm around Sadie.

After a few minutes of eating and gabbing with Abel, Cal noticed this and said, "Barb, for God's sake, go eat something and let Sadie play with the other kids."

"Oh, I don't know. She's so much smaller than the others," Barb protested.

"She'll be fine. They'll go easy on her. Won't y'all? Huh? Huh!?" Abel called out around the corner, where the boys were growling and hitting each other with plastic swords.

"That's okay, Abel. She's happy here with me." Barb hugged her daughter to her.

"Sadie, go play with the boys," Cal told their little girl sternly. Sadie slowly pushed herself off the sofa and went around the corner. "And you—you go into the kitchen and make yourself something to eat," Cal ordered Barb.

"Barb? How have you been?" Abel's wife, Sherlene, asked.

Barb had stationed herself in the kitchen in just the ideal place to closely watch Sadie playing in the hallway with those small, amped hooligans while she plowed through her plate of pork barbeque and potato salad. She turned back to her hostess and smiled pleasantly. "Great, Sherl. You?"

"Oh, wonderful! Isn't it great that Abel and Cal got that contract?"

"Yep," Barb tried to drink her iced tea as quickly as she could without causing brainfreeze.

"Oh! I found a fantastic recipe in TV guide the other day for a cheeseburger casserole. I tried it out last night and Abel and the boys loved it!"

"Did you?"

"Oh yes, and it was so simple! Remind me to write it down for you before you all go. Uses all the stuff you already got in the fridge: ketchup, pickles, onions, mustard…"

Barb tried to look interested as Sherlene spoke to her. Abel's wife—with her perfectly coiffed blonde hair, polka dot dresses, enthusiastic hand gestures, and kewpie doll voice—seemed too sweet to be real. And that wasn't too far from the truth. Barb remembered talking to Sherlene not long after she and Cal were married. Sherlene's kindly manners and her tendency to lean into Barb and seemingly confide in her on all matter of things made Barb think that she could trust her.

Cal had already started showing violent tendencies, and she didn't know what to do. One Saturday, Sherlene invited Barb over to help her make truffles for Easter, and as they worked, Barb admitted that Cal could sometimes be "harsh" with her. She didn't delve into how he'd shoved her into walls or broken things in their house, but she did admit that Cal had a temper.

"Oh Barb, don't let that worry you! He's a good man. Abel gets testy sometimes too. Remember: their jobs can be really stressful! Just focus on being a good wife."

Barb tried to take this advice to heart. Just a few days later, Barb was bringing up a basket of laundry from the basement, when Cal met her at the stairs, a look of pure rage in his eyes. "You've been talking about me behind my back. You've been saying things to my friends," he growled.

Barb felt her heart go numb with fear. "Cal…" she began.

"You don't talk about me behind my back!" he shouted, and then shoved her. Barb tumbled down the stairs, and when she landed, she landed right on her foot. It was broken and wedged underneath her. Cal locked the door behind her and left her there, sobbing on the floor with a broken ankle, for the rest of the night and into the next day. Barb managed to crawl up to the top floor and pound on the door, begging Cal to let her back in. She cried and screamed for hours, until she was hoarse. Finally, he opened the door.

He stared down at her coldly. "You listen, and listen good. What happens in our house, in our lives, is no one's goddamn business. It stays here, between us, you understand me?"

Barb just looked up at him mutely and nodded. Cal gathered her up and took her to the hospital to have her ankle treated. After that, Barb understood that no one in Cal's circle was to be trusted. Anything Sherlene heard went to Abel, which then went to Cal. Or maybe it went to Cal directly, Barb didn't know for sure.

Unfortunately for her, Cal's circle was the only circle she had. So she smiled and nodded while Sherlene babbled on, then she finished the last of her food and quickly excused herself so she could sit in the den alone. Barb leaned back in a chair and closed her eyes, thinking of Cherry's promise once more. Where would she go to start her new life? Would she be able to make new friends there? Would Sadie be happy? So many unknowns. Was it really worth giving up her entire life for a range of possibilities?

"Hey! There she is! Hey Cal—I found your girl!"

Barb opened shut her eyes and groaned inwardly when she heard this. Less than ten seconds later, all the adults had come and crowded into the den around her. "What are you doing sitting alone in here?" Cal demanded as he sat down beside her.

"Oh, just resting my eyes. I was feeling a little tired. Sorry, everyone," Barb replied.

"Feeling tired? Ha! Why would you feel tired? You don't work all day like we do!" Cal retorted. Andy and the other men laughed at this.

"Oh, now Cal. A woman's work is never done!" Sherlene argued in that sweet way of hers.

"Yeah, right. A woman's work: spending our money," Abel retorted, earning more guffaws from the men—and even some from the women.

"You're not kidding, man. You know what this one did the other day?" Cal gestured toward Barb, "Gave out our money to strangers at the market."

"Huh? She was?" Cal's co-worker, Donnie, asked.

"Cal," Barb protested.

"Yeah no lie! Just taking out dollar bills and handing them out to random strangers. I'm telling ya: common sense isn't one of Barb's strong suits. Ha ha ha!" The entire den erupted in laughter.

So this is how Cal decided to punish her for giving Cherry five dollars. Instead of beating her or breaking another one of her china figurines, he was going to humiliate her. He was going to make her look like an inept fool.

"I didn't just take out dollar bills and hand them out to a bunch of people. There was only one: a woman in line who didn't have enough money to pay for her groceries; she was five dollars short. I gave it to her because I was trying to be kind." Barb looked at all of them. "Isn't that what they teach us in church? To be kind to those who need it?"

There was nodding and murmurs of agreement. Cal looked at her. On the outside, he seemed calm and collected, but Barb knew that look in his eyes. He was seething with fury. Less than a minute ago, everyone at the party was on his side, laughing at Barb's expense. Now she'd turned the tide and he felt like a fool. Barb also knew what his eyes was promising: that she would pay dearly for defending herself.

* * *

Three hours later, after they'd left Abel's house, gotten home and Barb had put Sadie to bed, she sat on the floor of her bedroom, staring at the carpet. Cal had gone downstairs to watch TV. She ran her fingers along her gumline and looked at the blood she'd swabbed out. She also noticed that one of her bottom teeth was loose. Cal had punched her in the mouth, but fortunately that had been it. It hadn't felt like a blessing when she'd fallen to the ground, of course, but now Barb realized that it was.

The day after the next—Friday—Blanca was going to come pick her up. Barb would make her donation, and she'd start a new life. But she realized that if Cal had been more aggressive with his beating, Barb might have been so badly hurt that she wouldn't have been able to get out of bed—and then her chance would be gone. That would have been unbearable.

Barb slowly pulled herself to her feet and got to the bathroom, and cleaned herself up. She washed her face and swished some water around her mouth, watching the thin red threads of blood swirl around the sink and disappear. She looked at herself in the mirror, and found herself smiling. For once, she was grateful to Cal.

After he'd struck her and she fell, he grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head backwards so she had no choice but to look into his icy blue eyes.

"Look at me!" he snarled. "You need to do better!"

Cal was right, Barb realized. She needed to do better. She _would_ do better.

She just had to make it to Friday.


	3. Chapter 3

The next day—Thursday it was—Barb spent her time trying to figure out what to take and what to leave. She couldn't take much, obviously, and she couldn't pack away things that Cal would notice were missing. She had to make it through Thursday evening and Friday morning.

 _Clothes._ She decided to pack herself a pair of slacks, a dress, a white button down blouse, a nightgown, three pairs of underwear, a pair of socks, and a bra. For Sadie she packed a few more outfits (her clothes took up much less space in a suitcase). She also packed a pair of low heeled dress shoes for herself and a jacket in case it was cold where she'd be going.

The clothing was the easy part. Now she had to go through the other stuff.

 _Albums._ Most of the albums she had were filled with photos of Cal. She physically cringed when she looked through the ones under the bed. The photos in the beginning showed them when they were first dating, Barb with long hair, Cal without a beard. His smile was shy and close-lipped, his arm always around her neck. Barb looked closely at these first photos. Would anyone looking at these ever be able to tell that this quiet, withdrawn boy could go on to beat and humiliate his wife?

There were a couple of photos in the most recent album of Sadie by herself that she ended up taking: as a newborn, as a baby, a toddler, and then at her 2nd birthday. Cal could have the others; he was in most of them, anyway.

Barb reached between the boxspring and the mattress of her bed and pulled out a worn white envelope. She reached inside of the envelope and pulled out three old photographs. She felt tears start to gather in her eyes when she looked at them: one of her and her mother the day she graduated from high school; one of her mother as a young woman leaning against her first car; and one of mother taken at some point in the last few years, at a restaurant somewhere.

They were the only photos Barb had left of her mother—the only ones she'd been able to rescue. About a year earlier, Barb had been having a particularly rough day. The sink had clogged, the car had started making a funny noise, Sadie had been trying her patience, and on top of that, she was getting sick. She struggled to get dinner ready in time. When Cal got home, he sat down in his chair, expecting his beer to be waiting for him. It wasn't. "Where's my beer?" he asked her.

"Why can't you get it yourself?" Barb snapped at him. "I'm busy!"

That set him off. He grabbed her family album—she'd had it sitting on the bookshelf by the mantle—and threw it into the fire. Barb screamed in horror and tried to get it out, but Cal deliberately took away the poker and the tongs to spite her. She struggled to retrieve it, burning her fingers in a few places, but she got it out. By then, however, most of the photos damaged beyond repair. Photos of her mother and father on their wedding day; photos of her as a baby and as a little girl; photos of her and her mother together in the years after her father had left them—all gone. Barb sobbed all night, even as a fever took hold of her. Cal did nothing to help, didn't even apologize. "That's what you get for giving me lip," he told her.

It was memories like this that made Barb wonder: _why_? Why had she stayed as long as she had?

She held these photos against her chest, then packed them into the cloth pocket of the suitcase with her clothes.

 _Jewelry._ Barb wasn't a fancy, fashionable woman, but there were a few things she probably should take, if only to pass on to Sadie at some point. She looked into a wooden jewelry box on her vanity. Her mother's ruby brooch was a definite. Her grandmother's pearl necklace too. Most of the other stuff was just costume jewelry that wasn't worth much of anything; Barb could do without that. She lifted out the top compartment of the jewelry box, and lo and behold, she found a few photos. One of them was of her mother and her aunt when they were younger. Barb cried out in happiness. "Thank you," she said to no one in particular. There were a few more photos, but they were taken while Barb was in high school. They were photos she'd taken with her two best friends: Linda and Amelia.

Barb had gone to a fairly small high school—so small that there wasn't much room for cliques to form. The pretty, popular girls were just as likely to be friends with the unattractive girls as they were to be with other beauties. In their group, Linda was the pretty one, Amelia was the smart one, and Barb was the nice one. Barb watched Linda go from boyfriend to boyfriend throughout high school, and Amelia often got Linda's leftovers. But no one went after Barb. She was the tall, clumsy, awkward one, with her bony arms and legs, broad face, and voice almost as deep as some of the guys in their class.

It wasn't until after high school graduation, when Linda had convinced her and Amelia to go to her parents' lake house with her, that Barb finally met a guy. He and his friends were fishing off the pier not far from the house, and just like Barb, he appeared to be the awkward, homely one of his group. He was shy and introverted and moody, but he seemed to light up just a bit when Barb was around. He liked that she was interested in listening to what he had to say; she liked that he was actually taller than her. For once, Barb was the one straying away from her group, ditching her girls to spend time with a boy.

On the last day they were there, Cal kissed Barb and said he wanted to see her again, even after they'd left the lake. They figured out that they lived two hours away from each other, but Cal didn't care. "I'll drive the two hours if it means I get to kiss you good night," he told her.

And Cal kept his promise. He worked days at his uncle's lumberyard and then he'd drive the two hours just to spend a half an hour with Barb on her mother's living room sofa. On weekends he'd pick her up and drive her back to his house and then drop her off promptly at 5 so her mother wouldn't worry. After a whole year of doing this, Cal finally decided to ask Barb's mother permission to marry her.

Cal wanted to move to Keystone, where the cost of living was cheaper. And Barb, hopelessly in love, wanted nothing more to make him happy. But once she'd left home, Linda and Amelia didn't try to keep in contact with her. Barb had no idea where they were, but she wondered what they'd think of her now. She put the photos with the others she planned to take with her.

 _Keepsakes._ Barb's grandmother had amassed a collection of glass and porcelain figurines over the course of her lifetime—little people and animals that were called _Die Kleine_. They'd been designed and sculpted hundreds of years ago and were worth a great deal to collectors in the know. Cal had broken many of them over the years, throwing them against walls, dropping them to the ground—once even tossing them out of window to shatter against the driveway. Barb had wept over their loss at first. Cal had laughed at her, saying that they were just material possessions, and that the most important thing was their life together and her being a good wife. Barb didn't have an argument for that. They were just material possessions—but now that she was leaving, they were all she had left to start over with.

She had two left: one wrapped in paper in her closet, and one sitting on the end table in the living room. She'd pack up the one in her closet that day, and hopefully remember to take the other one with her right before Blanca arrived.

"Mommy, what you doing?"

Barb turned to see Sadie standing in the doorway, her dolly hanging to the floor in her one little fist. Barb smiled as brightly as she could. She couldn't risk telling Sadie what she was doing; it was too likely that she'd let it slip to Cal. "Just doing some cleaning up, Baby," she told her. "Hey. Do you want to help Mommy run some errands?"

Barb bought a toiletry kit, extra sanitary pads, and some snacks for Sadie. Then she went to the ATM, and after much debate, withdrew $200. It was so little to start over with, but if she took out too much, the bank might get suspicious and call Cal. At least this wasn't the week he got paid, so he wasn't going to be going into the bank and getting the total balance for the accounts.

After they got home, Barb put Sadie down for a nap, and looked for a place to hide the suitcase she packed. She couldn't risk Cal finding it. Finally she settled on the laundry room, just behind the washtub. Cal never did any of the laundry, so short of the tub backing up or some other unexpected calamity, he most likely wasn't going to go back there.

Barb was a nervous wreck after Cal got home. Her hands trembled as she took the plates from the cabinets and she had to ball them into fists. _You can do this_ , she told herself. _You only have to make it through the next few hours._

"Barb! Where's dinner?" Cal called from the dining room.

She swallowed before she answered. "Coming, honey."

She ate slowly, trying to keep her stomach from revolting against her. She looked up just once and her eyes met Cal's. Barb managed a smile and looked away. _Oh God, what if he figured it out somehow? What if he knows?_

Hours later, after Barb had put Sadie to bed and she was tiptoeing out of the little girl's room, she found Cal waiting for her in the hallway. "Come with me," he told her, as he took her hand and led her to their bedroom.

It felt like the first time they'd slept together: Cal was sweet and tender and giving. He was everything Barb had always wanted him to be, all the time. After they were done and drifting off to sleep, Barb nearly forgot what the next day meant to her.

The next morning, Barb was the good wife once more: getting her husband up from bed, making a delicious breakfast (making sure not to eat any of it herself), packing a delicious lunch. Coffee in a thermos, jacket freshly pressed, kiss on the cheek. "See ya tonight!" Cal called from over his shoulder, as he got into his truck and drove off.

The house was quiet. Sadie was playing with her stuffed animals. Barb looked at the clock and tried to calculate the hours until Blanca was supposed to show up. About five of them.

Did Barb really want to do this? Give up her entire life with just some clothes, photos, and $200 to show for it? Did she really want to take her child away from her father? Cherry said that Cal would never find them, which meant that Sadie would never see him again. What if Sadie wasn't able to understand why she'd done this—and she ended up hating Barb?

She could just let it go. She could just stay in the house while Blanca drove by, and that would be the end of it. At a loss for something to do, Barb restlessly dusted the bookshelves. She dusted the photos, and realized that there was a photo just behind a larger one. It was a photo of Barb late into her pregnancy with Sadie, at her baby shower. She seemed to be wearing an awful lot of makeup; Barb wasn't the type to wear makeup at all.

Then she remembered why. Cal had slapped her hard across the face the night before for supposedly "mouthing off" to him (pregnancy hormones, most likely). Her cheek had become red. She'd had to put on a ton of foundation and rouge to cover the marks.

She was carrying his child, and Cal still couldn't stop himself from hitting her.

He'd never stop hitting her, Barb now realized. His shyness, protectiveness, dedication—all those things she'd loved in the beginning of their relationship—were just one half of his dual nature. The other half was impatience, possessiveness, and violence. It didn't matter that his career was taking off and that he all these great things planned; he'd always find a reason to hurt her.

Cherry told her that only she knew what she could live with. And Barb knew now: she couldn't live this life for one more day. Not when escape was so close.

Barb changed out of her housedress and apron, and put on a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, and a hooded jacket. She went downstairs and retrieved her suitcase, struggling with it all the way up the stairs. She placed it in the hallway along with her purse. She found the pink book that Cherry had given her and made sure she put it in her purse; she didn't want to leave any clues that Cal could use to find her. She went upstairs, just to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything and to use the bathroom one more time. As she washed her hands, she noticed her wedding rings. Carefully she removed them. She'd toyed with the idea of keeping them, perhaps passing them down to Sadie one day. Or perhaps pawning them for money once she'd settled into her new life.

With a cruel smile, she dumped them into the toilet. Cal could find them when he got home later.

Just a half an hour or so left. Barb found Sadie playing with her toys and brought her upstairs to change her clothes. "Nap time?"

"No, sweetie. Things are going to be a little different today. We're going on a trip."

"Where we going?"

"I'm…not sure about that. One of Mommy's friends will be coming to get us."

"You got friends, Mommy?"

Barb just stared at her daughter with a mirthless smile. "Yes, I do. Now, hold still while I put these socks on."

Once Sadie was dressed and Barb was leading her down the stairs, the girl asked, "Is Daddy coming with us?"

Barb felt her heart sink. "No." She wasn't going to lie to her daughter. To her relief, Sadie didn't ask why.

Fifteen minutes before Blanca was scheduled to arrive, Barb remembered that last Die Kleine in the living room. It was of a little boy, floating on a star. Quickly she wrapped it in a sheet of newspaper and stuffed it between the clothes in the suitcase.

Ten more minutes. Barb made Sadie in a chair near the front door, while she stood near the window and looked restlessly out of the curtains. Her stomach felt like it was tied in knots. "You can do this," she whispered to herself. "You can do this."

One o'clock came and went. At 1:05, Barb opened the front door and had Sadie sit on the steps. What if Blanca wasn't coming? What if it had been all a cruel joke? What if she'd mustered up all this courage and strength to be able to leave, and it was for nothing? She ducked her head back in, looking forlornly at her overstuffed suitcase.

When she turned back, a long, black towncar was just pulling up in front of the house. Blanca got out and looked up at her with a stiff nod.

"That your friend, Mommy?" Sadie asked.

"Yeah…that's one of them," Barb told her. "I'll get my suitcase," she called to Blanca.

"Very well. Is this your…offspring?"

"Yes, this is Sadie. Sadie, honey, this is Blanca." The little girl clung close to her mother, but she peaked out and waved her fingers softly to Blanca. Blanca stared at the child coolly for a moment, but then, surprisingly, mimicked the gesture back to her.

Barb dragged out the suitcase with a grunt. "Ugh! Sorry, it's kinda heavy. Maybe if we both take an end…"

But Blanca easily lifted the suitcase onto her shoulder and danced down the front steps. "No need. I'll be fine." Barb just gaped as Blanca opened the trunk and tossed it in.

After Barb and Sadie got into the backseat of the car, the little girl tugged on Barb's sleeve and said, "Mommy. What's wrong with her eye?"

"Sadie, don't talk about people. It's rude."

Blanca got in, then turned around to them. "Our drive will be brief. Do not touch the doors or the windows. Do not exit the car until I've instructed you to do so. Do you understand?" Barb just nodded.

"Very well."

As the car pulled away from the house, Barb stared up at it. She was leaving it behind—she was literally leaving her entire life behind. If all went according to plan, she'd never see this place or Cal ever again.

She felt a small hand slip into hers. Sadie was looking up at her. Smiling, Barb leaned down and kissed her snowy blonde hair. She was letting it all go—but at least she was holding on to the only thing that mattered.


	4. Chapter 4

Blanca said that the trip would be brief, but obviously her idea of brief was different from Barb's. She didn't have a watch with her, but it felt like the car ride was at least two hours long. Maybe more.

If the trip was long, at least Barb couldn't say that it was uneventful. At first she saw nothing out of the ordinary; just the roads around town, then the highway that led out to the interstate. They drove the highway for quite a while, until the road signs went from being green and oblong-shaped, to brown hexagons. Then Blanca suddenly veered off the highway and onto the unpaved dirt, weaving through tall grass and trees. Barb wrapped her arms around Sadie, who fortunately had been lulled to sleep by the movement of the car.

"Um, are we almost there?" Barb asked in a nervous, hopeful voice.

"No," Blanca responded simply. Then she seemed to tap something on the car's panel, and the windows darkened all at once. Barb could just barely make out lines and shapes outside of the car's window. Then the car seemed to lurch upwards, like it was riding over a steep incline. Barb yelped quietly as she felt the angle of the car move to what felt like a 90 degree angle, and it seemed like they were travelling faster than before. She panted, trying not to panic too much. Oh, this was a mistake! What had she gotten into?

She felt dizzy and disoriented. She wasn't sure she could handle anymore. Barb started to reach for the door handle.

"Don't touch the doors," Blanca warned her in a stern voice. Barb jerked her hand away, startled. How had she known?

She tried to focus on her breathing. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. _The darkness, the steepness._ She didn't know how much more she could take. She craned her neck downwards, towards Sadie, who was still fast asleep. How would Barb keep her calm if she woke up?

And then—just like that—it was over. The car was finally situated on the horizontal plane again, the lights came on shortly after that, and Barb could see out the windows. They were driving down a city street, lined with shops and offices, and people strolling around. The sun was shining. Barb sighed in relief. Blanca turned into an open garage, turned a corner, then finally parked the car.

Barb waited in the car, afraid to touch the doors. A few seconds later, the door opened, and there was Cherry, smiling kindly at her. "Oh, Barb! You came. I'm so glad!"

Barb couldn't help but smile back. "Uh, yeah." She saw that Sadie was waking up. "Mommy?" the little girl asked in a groggy voice.

"Yes, Baby. We're here." Barb got out of the car, then lifted Sadie into her arms.

"And there she is again. Hello there!" Cherry greeted Sadie, who giggled and hid her face in her mother's neck.

"Won't you come with me? I'll take you to our suite. Blanca has your bag," Cherry told her, gently putting an arm around Barb and leading her to an elevator.

The suite that Cherry led Barb and Sadie was elegant without feeling opulent—some sort of cross between an office, a hotel room, and a clinic. The walls were painted in rich purples, pinks, and reds, the furniture gleaming white. Several tall, exotic potted plants served as living decorations. Cherry had Barb and Sadie sit down on a plush, peach-colored sofa. "Blanca and I just have to get a few things ready. You haven't eaten or drank in 12 hours, right?" The tall woman asked.

"Nope. Nothing." Barb realized, with that question, that she was, indeed, hungry and thirsty.

"Great! The procedure should only take about a half an hour, and then you'll need to recover for a little while."

"Okay…" Barb looked down at Sadie, who was playing with the ribbons on her shirt. "Who will look after my daughter while this is all going on?"

"No worries! I have that covered."

"Is it…um…Blanca, who's going to watch her?" Barb looked doubtfully at the grim, pale woman, who had just entered the room and was taking her bag down a hallway.

"Oh stars, no. Come with me. I have it all set up." Cherry stood and led them down a hallway on the other end of the suite. As they walked towards a closed door, Barb could hear voices faintly talking. Cherry opened the door to reveal a room that was set up very much like a nursery, with toys; big, wide, soft pillows and cushions; and a shelf with story books. In the middle of the room sat a little boy about Sadie's age, also with light blonde hair, playing with building blocks. A woman sat on the floor near him. She looked up at them and smiled. "Cherry!"

"Hi there! Barb, meet Shallot."

Barb shook hands with the woman. She was short and somewhat stout, with large black eyes, a wide grin, and hair done in purple and white pin curls that framed her head. "Nice to meet ya, Barb!" she said in a raspy sort of voice.

"You too. Charlotte?"

"Nope, Shallot—like the onion." The woman smiled proudly.

"Oh! Sorry."

"Don't worry about it—happens a lot! This is my nephew, Sour Cream. Come say hello, Baby!"

The little boy gazed at them silently with wide, thoughtful eyes. Tentatively he left his toys and went to stand by his aunt. Barb instructed Sadie to say hello to Sour Cream, and then with both Barb's and Shallot's goading, the two children sat down together and started to play.

"Aw, look! They're already making friends," Shallot cooed. She returned to the cushion she'd been sitting on and started to talk to them.

"Shallot will watch Sadie while we're occupied," Cherry told Barb, turning her back towards the door. Barb looked over her shoulder in hesitation, but the taller woman gently pushed her forward. "It's best if we leave now. She'll be fine, I promise," Cherry whispered.

The two of them walked down the hallway, towards the opposite end of the suite. Cherry opened the last door at the end of the hall, which led to a room that was structured very much like an operating room, with a bed and many tables and cabinets, all painted in clean, sterile white. Blanca was already in the room, dressed in white surgical scrubs.

"Please change into this gown," Blanca told her, handing her a soft package wrapped in plastic. "Then get into the bed. Cherry and I will return in a few minutes."

Cherry laid a hand on Barb's shoulder. "Everything's going to be fine, I promise." With that, they both left.

In the meantime, Barb did as she'd been asked, changing out of her clothes and leaving them in a neatly folded pile on the closest counter. She got into the bed and laid back, staring up at the glossy white ceiling. So many things could go wrong, she thought. She didn't know these women. What if they were planning to kidnap Sadie? What if they planned to harvest her organs? She was literally putting her life in the hands of strangers.

But then she thought of Cal. Her husband, the one who was supposed to be the closest person in the world to her…and he terrorized her, hurt her more than anyone ever had in her entire life. She supposed that meant that it didn't matter if she knew someone or not—they all had the potential to hurt her.

Cherry and Blanca returned, as they promised. "Are you ready, Barb?" Cherry asked her.

Barb tried to smile. "As ready as I'll ever be."

The beautiful blonde took her hand, and for a moment, Barb swore her eyes lit up like stars. "Thank you for doing this for me. I'll never forget it, as long as I live—longer, even!"

"Ah-hem."

Barb looked over to see Blanca, standing beside the bed, holding what appeared to be a magnifying glass. "If we could begin?" the pale woman asked.

"Of course!" Cherry cried. "Okay, Barb. Here's the deal: Blanca's going to shine this light, you'll go to sleep, and when you wake up, it'll all be done! Sound good?"

"Uh…yeah."

"Great! And here we go!"

Barb looked at the Blanca. A warm, bright, pink light seemed to fill the room.

"Barb?"

Barb opened her eyes slowly. Cherry was smiling down at her. "Oh!" Barb sat up. "Are you and Blanca almost ready?"

Cherry laughed at her. "Ready? We're done!"

"Done?" Barb ran her hands over her stomach. "Really? I don't even remember going to sleep."

"Well, you did. And we're done! Shallot is bringing your daughter right now to visit. You'll rest for a little while, then we'll bring you to your new home."

"New…home." Barb could hardly believe it. And she could hardly believe she'd had surgery. There was no pain, no grogginess. Barb ran her hands over her belly again. "Cherry…are you sure that it happened? Did you really go in…and take my…"

Cherry took her hand. "Yes. Thank you again. You've changed my life."

Sadie came in soon after, and Barb clutched her daughter to her, so grateful that she was okay. Barb rested in bed for a while, then got dressed and got ready to go. As she was leaving, she saw Shallot in the garage and thanked her for watching Sadie.

"Oh, my pleasure! She and Sour Cream had a great time together. From what I heard, you'll be heading to my sister's stomping grounds, so who knows? Maybe the kids will become good friends."

"Yeah, maybe so. Where is that?"

Shallot looked cautiously over at Cherry and Blanca, who were talking quietly at the car. "Cherry will explain it all to you. Best of luck, Barb."

It was another strange car ride for Barb, but at least this time Cherry was there with her. The large woman had a very soothing influence about her that seemed to put both Barb and Sadie at ease, even when the interior of the car got completely dark and once again it felt like they were flying. "It won't be as long as before, I promise," Cherry told them.

And she was right. It only took a few minutes, and there was light again. They were now in a seaside town, it seemed—the ocean sparkled like it was crusted with thousands of diamonds. People in swimsuits and cutoffs lazily walked the sidewalks. A ferris wheel peaked above the trees, sluggishly turning in place. Blanca turned off of the main street which led to a residential area filled with small, neat houses. At last the car pulled up to one particular house: a cape cod with purple shutters.

Cherry smiled, her eyes again seeming to shine like stars. "Come on."

Barb hesitantly got out of the car and took Sadie in her arms. "Where are we now?"

"Your home, of course. Come check it out!" Cherry led them down the cobbled stone pathway leading to the door.

The interior of the house was already fully furnished, with brown and peach accents. The windows were draped with pink curtains. Everything was gleaming and had a clean, scrubbed scent. Barb looked around, amazed.

"I wanted the house to be ready for you to move right in, so we went ahead and furnished and decorated it for you. If you don't like it, you can change it however you want, of course." Cherry held her arms behind her back and rocked on her heels, clearly hoping that Barb liked it.

"This…is mine?"

"Well, yeah. Fully paid for and in your name. It was part of our agreement."

"Mommy, Mommy!" Sadie cried out. "There's a swing set in the backyard!" The little girl jumped up and down as she looked out the window.

"I'm so glad you like it, Barb," Cherry said. She and Barb stood outside the house together. Blanca was leaning against the car, waiting.

"So um…where is this?"

"Beach City, Delmarva."

"Oh. Hmm. I'd heard of it, but never been here before. I guess I'll come to think of it as home—eventually."

"Time's all you need." Cherry's eyes lit up again. "Well! I guess this is it!"

"Cherry…um…about Cal…"

"He'll never find you." Cherry's beautiful face got very grim. "We'll take care of him, I promise. You don't have to worry."

Barb exhaled. "Thank you. For all of this."

"It was my pleasure." Cherry held her arms out. Barb walked into them, and allowed the larger woman to embrace her. Barb breathed in her sweet scent, like rose petals.

"What do I do now?" Barb murmured into her shoulder.

"Now…you live your life." Cherry turned and began to walk away.

"Cherry, wait!" The tall woman stopped and turned around. "Um…will I ever see you again?"

Cherry smiled. "No. Probably not." With that, she turned and walked to the car and got in. Blanca nodded coolly at Barb, then got into the car too and drove off.

Starting a new life—starting all over again—it wasn't as difficult as Barb thought it would be. Her neighbors never asked where she came from or why she'd moved there. They treated her as though she'd been there all along.

On the fourth day of her new life, Barb found a job as a mail carrier at the post office. She used her maiden name, Miller, on the application. Her commitment to tidiness, efficiency, and courtesy helped her to quickly move up the ladder—not that it was a terribly long ladder to begin with.

Barb liked the way the house was furnished, so she never changed it. Barb still managed to put her unique mark on it, however. She and Sadie took lots of photos and filled the shelves and mantlepieces with them. She had her Die Kleine figurines prominently displayed. She bought house plants—asparagus ferns and spider plants and African violets—and she let Sadie name them.

She found herself eventually starting to do things she'd never been able to do with Cal around. She played her country music songs and sang along, not caring that she was off-key. She cooked with spices—paprika and cayenne and sriracha. She could lie in bed all Saturday morning and watch TV with Sadie snuggled up next to her. She was allowed to burn dinner every now and then or forget to buy something from the grocery store or spill a drink; no one was going to slap her and tell her she was stupid. The freedom was so wonderful, she couldn't believe it. Her world, her life, had been such a prison, she hadn't realized it before. The only thing that could depress her was thinking of all the time she'd spent being afraid.

Barb worried that Sadie would look for her father or ask about him, or demand to see him. But she didn't. It was only the second night in their new home, as Barb was putting her child to bed, that Sadie looked up from her unicorn blankets and asked, "Mommy? Is Daddy going to come live with us?"

"No, Baby," Barb told her. Her stomach dropped to her knees as she anticipated the questions to come. But they didn't. Sadie just turned over and closed her eyes. Perhaps her little girl was just as relieved that her father was out of their lives as she was. Barb never had the heart to ask.

Barb spent the first few months in Beach City looking over her shoulder, constantly worried that Cal was going to find them. Every time the house creaked, every time the phone rang—Barb felt her breath catch and her heart race.

But Cal never came. Barb could never gather the courage to dial their old number, but she'd check the local and national papers to see if there was ever any mention of him—or of Barb and Sadie going missing. She found nothing. Cherry was telling the truth: they did take care of Cal. Sometimes Barb would stop and think about it, wondering exactly what Cherry and Blanca did with him—or _to_ him. Eventually she realized that it was better not to speculate anymore.

She made friends fairly easily too: the ladies at the pharmacy; the counter guy at the car wash; a musician named Greg. None of them ever asked if she was married or where Sadie's father was. They all assumed Barb was a widow; for all she knew, she very well could have been.

Cherry had kept her promise about everything—including Barb never seeing her again. Barb thought about the tall, stunning woman from time to time, wondering where she was and if she was never able to make her dream come true. Barb's friend Greg took up with a woman that vaguely reminded Barb of Cherry, but Barb never bothered to ask if the two might be related.

And so, flash forward 16 years later, Barb was still living her quiet, limited, uneventful life. She never married or fell in love again. She never even went on a date again. She didn't care. Her Sadie was the love of her life.

A few weeks after all that fuss at the harbor and Lars Barriga going missing, Barb was changing the receipt tape in the cash register when she heard the door open and shut. It was Steven.

"Steven! Hey kid, how are you?" Barb greeted him.

Steven stared at his cell phone glumly. "Hey Barb," he replied in a monotone voice.

Barb frowned at this. Usually Greg's son was upbeat and bubbly. "Is something wrong? Woman trouble?"

"No! Well, maybe." Steven sighed and put his phone in his pocket. "My dad and the gems are taking me on vacation. Since we'll be gone for a while, Pearl wanted me to come in and have all of our mail held here, until we get back. Can you do that?"

"Sure I can! Here—fill out these Hold Mail cards and I'll be sure to keep anything that comes in for either your house or It's a Wash in the back."

Steven filled out the cards and held them out to Barb. As she took them, her hand brushed the boy's. Something felt…strange when she did this. What was the feeling? Familiar? Yes, that was it. Maybe like someone she used to know.

But it wasn't just that. Barb felt a connection. She'd known Steven for a while, and had known his father for even longer, of course, but it wasn't that. She felt linked to him. She couldn't explain it. She just couldn't explain it. Barb pulled her hand back in surprise.

"Barb? Is something wrong?" Steven asked.

She blinked. "Wrong? Oh! No, no, of course not! You—you enjoy your vacation, Steven."

He scoffed lightly. "I'll try, I guess. See you around, Barb."

She watched him go. The feeling she'd had about him lingered for a little while longer, but a sudden influx of customers and a call from Sadie about forgetting her lunch made it completely slip from her mind. After Jamie returned from his route, Barb hopped into her van and made a beeline for the Big Donut, brown bag lunch held securely in her lap as though it were the cure for all the evils in the world.

 _The End_


End file.
